


Home We'll Go

by appalachian_fireflies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gay dads, Harry Potter was Raised by Sirius Black, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Recovery, Sirius Black Free from Azkaban, Suicidal Thoughts, The Burrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-06 00:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12200145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appalachian_fireflies/pseuds/appalachian_fireflies
Summary: "I can't, I don't know how," Remus stuttered as Molly dropped the infant into his arms, who immediately ceased crying and stared up at him with wide eyes."Nonsense," Molly said.  "Be a dear and keep him from falling while I feed Ginny.""Ba!" Ron giggled, and slapped Remus in the face.Molly is the emergency contact for the Order when those listed can no longer be reached.  Remus' life finds a different path.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I imagined Remus being very angsty and hopeless at the end of the war, and I thought, what could fix that? Then I imagined him surrounded by children and thought it was too funny not to write.

_What was the nature of your involvement with Sirius Black?_

Remus missed the funeral. When the aurors ran out of questions, they began repeating them. 

_What was the nature of your involvement with Sirius Black?_

_We were friends._

_By all accounts, very close friends._

_As close as James and Sirius,_ Remus replied. 

They let him out just before the full moon. They had their traitor, his screams plastered on the front page of the Prophet. It was time for peace, and paperwork. 

His place in Greyback’s camp was long gone- he had new punctures between his ribs from when his cover had been blown. Peter was dead. James was dead. 

Within twelve hours, he had found an old mausoleum, heavy stone walls and no windows. As he shut, bolted, and spelled the door, he laughed- _appropriate_ had been the first thought that came to mind, and just after it, _Moony’s being maudlin again_.

 _Is he?_ Sirius would say. _I’ll fix that_

The laughter was too much. Remus choked on it. 

_James_ , Remus thought, but all he could see were the pictures the aurors had shown him, his eyes wide and empty. Lily’s body on the floor. 

He breathed in, and the aliveness of breathing was like a punch to the gut- it bothered him to chew even plain white bread, the starch sliding down his throat. He hadn’t been able to stomach meat for several weeks, not that he’d been given much. He was weak. 

Weak was a dangerous way to begin a full moon. He could feel the wolf moving under his skin, eclipsing his consciousness. It was angry. It smelled old, decayed bones with no warm body to tear, which only infuriated it further. He felt something like hope, at that. 

_What was the nature of your involvement with Sirius Black?_

*

Remus breathed out.

The first thing that trickled through his consciousness was the bustle of noise- the clatter of dishes, small feet pounding across the floor, birds chirping away out in the fields. _Hogwarts,_ he thought, and his body relaxed. He’d always been an only child, and after a year at school he couldn’t sleep in the hush of his parent’s cottage. 

_Fred, no running in the house!_

_’M not Fred!_ , a boy complained.

_George, no running in the house!_

_Mum, I’m not even running!_ , another boy complained. 

Remus heard a peal of laughter in response. He could feel the late morning sun through his eyelids, and moved to grasp the sheet covering him. He couldn’t quite close his fingers, and he waited a few more moments to gather his strength. 

“HE’S AWAKE,” shouted the first boy’s voice, then the light footsteps ran off again. 

Another, heavier set of footsteps approached. “So he is,” a woman said, and sat next to him with a sigh of relief. “Goodness, I’ve been on my feet too long.”

Remus opened his eyes. The bright morning light made him cover his eyes on reflex, and the white cotton fabric wrapped around his hand brushed his forehead. He pulled himself upright, and winced. 

The room was filled with hundreds of oddments- children’s drawings held with sticking charms, whirling painted toys. Overlarge quilts in a variety of patterns, a stack of letters atop a small mountain of Prophets. A teakettle whistled Celestina Warbeck from the adjoining room. 

“I’m sorry,” the woman with her ginger hair flipped into a bun continued. “We’re a bit tight on space. Of course, once you feel well enough you can use Bill’s room while he’s at school, but he’s on the top floor, see-“

“Sorry,” Remus pulled himself to sitting, “but I’m not sure where I am.”

“Oh, silly me,” the woman said, immediately placing a hand behind his back to help him sit. “I’m Molly. We’ve met once or twice, but I don’t imagine you remember.” 

Remus collected his brain from wherever it had run off to, and studied her for a moment. “You’re in the Order,” he supplied finally. “But I never saw you much.” 

“Oh, I wasn’t at most of the meetings,” she waved a hand at the surrounding chaos. “I was a bit busy.”

“I didn’t often come to meetings either,” Remus replied. 

“Well,” Molly gave him a pat, “then neither of us are at fault.”

Silence stretched between them, and Remus peered toward the kitchen. It seemed they had an audience of four boys lined up around the doorjamb. 

“Molly,” Remus asked, “how did you find me?”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Molly answered. “That was Albus. He said to tell you that he enjoyed the challenge.”

“Ah,” Remus said, feeling around the edge of the thick bandage on his stomach. “And how did I get to-“

“The Burrow,” Molly finished, a hint of pride in her voice. “I’m the default emergency contact. When others can’t be reached.”

“For the Order,” Remus supplied. 

“Yes,” Molly answered steadily. “Happens more often now than it used to.” Remus felt some alarm as she moved closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You know, dear, when my brothers died, I thought I’d go with them. Couldn’t imagine any life that they wouldn’t be a part of. But I woke up the next day, and I was needed,” she looked over at her children. “There are so few of us left,” Molly met his eyes. 

“Thank you for patching me up, Molly,” Remus said stiffly, moving away until the hand fell from his shoulder. “I’ll be going now.” 

Molly, to his surprise, only smiled, the corners of her eyes beginning to crinkle. “I think you’ll find your current condition is self-limiting, dear.”

Remus, testing himself, stood only to fall back on the couch. A chorus of giggles sounded from the kitchen, and a child began to cry. 

“Oh, he hates being left out,” Molly said, and went to tend to the crying baby while Remus examined the intricate splint currently holding his thigh together. She returned a moment later with the wailing toddler, and plopped him into Remus’ arms. The boy’s eyes were wide with interest as he peered up at Remus, and he ceased crying at once. 

“Like a charm,” Molly stood. 

“I can’t,” Remus stuttered, “I don’t know-“

“Nonsense,” Molly replied. “Just make sure he doesn’t fall while I’m feeding Ginny,” she said, and disappeared into the kitchen. The boys were still wholly entertained watching Remus, and whispered amongst themselves. 

“Ba!” the toddler in Remus’ arms cried, and slapped Remus in the face. He jumped in surprise, and the boy giggled. 

After Molly had seen the older boys off to day school, she helped Remus limp to the kitchen and gave him a plate of what looked like six eggs and a quarter pound of cheese. Her tea was brewed strong, and Remus drank it black with sugar. He watched her strong arms knead and roll dough for about an hour as he continued to hold Ron in his arms, who was endlessly entertained by Remus tickling his feet. 

“Molly,” Remus said finally, and she turned, her whole front covered in flour. “I have to use the toilet.” 

“Oh, of course!” Molly put the rolling pin down the way others might a bat. She put Ron in his highchair, and facilitated Remus’ slow limp. Thankfully, she was able to deposit him on the toilet and leave him there.

“Ought to change your bandages now, too,” Molly said when he tapped on the door. 

“Oh,” Remus flushed red. “No, I can do that.” 

“I’ve been slipping pain potions into your drink,” Molly said, reaching under the cabinet for strips of cloth, which she neatly sanitized with a tap of her wand. “It’s worse than it feels.”

“I know,” Remus tugged the cloth away from her, and slipped his shirt off to start. “I’ve done this before.” 

“Oh,” she took in the ropy scars crossing his torso, shining white lines, puncture wounds that were not yet faded. Her face crumpled in pity, and he looked away to peel back the first bandage, testing the healing line of flesh that had been spelled together. “If you’d prefer,” she said. 

“I would, thank you,” he replied, and she turned away. 

“This is only curiosity,” Molly started, “and, as such, terribly rude.”

Remus didn’t respond as the awkward silence hung between them. 

“I’d assumed, recently, with the war,” she carried on. “But most of those aren’t recent at all, are they?”

“No,” Remus replied. 

“How old were you?” Molly asked, the question rising in pitch. 

“That is a very personal question,” Remus answered. “But I was four. No, I don’t remember it. And I’m used to it, now,” he lied. 

“Oh dear,” Molly said. “Oh, I can’t imagine.” 

It was odd, to hear the empathy in her voice; so few people knew what he was, and they had either approached it with steadfast acceptance or humor. 

_Tetchy, eh? That time of the month?_

Remus saw, in one bright moment of clarity, the way James’ face pulled into a smirk as he darted away from Remus’ hex. Things like that made someone alive and irreplaceable, he thought- that way that James’ lips quirked, that no one else in the world could replicate. His breath caught, and when he breathed in it hurt from his lungs to his gut. 

“I’ll let you know when I’ve finished,” Remus said. 

“Right,” Molly said, and wandered back off to the kitchen. 

*

A week later, the leg splint was ready to come off, and Remus could walk the perimeter of the house. He liked getting up early in the morning with the first birds, and staring up at the structure Molly and Arthur had expanded seven times. He’d learned to change nappies, make a pot pie, and a cleaning charm for stainless steel. 

“Well,” Remus coughed to clear his throat as Fred and George came tumbling past. He caught George before he tripped over his father’s shoes, and pushed him along. “I ought to be-“ 

“You ought to go outside with the boys,” Molly interrupted. “They’ve far too much energy.” 

“I-“ Remus started. 

“Play quidditch with us, Remus!” Fred yelled. 

“No yelling in the house,” Molly said.

“I’ve always been pants at quidditch,” Remus said. 

“Well,” Fred eyed him. “You can be on Percy’s team, then.” 

“It’d be a big help,” Molly said, bouncing Ginny in her arms and feeding Ron cut pieces of chicken. 

It was dark out by the time the boys were willing to call it quits, and Remus could feel the mosquitoes from the marshes still feeding on him.

“They’ve killed me,” Remus said, sprawled over the couch. George laughed uproariously from the next room as Percy shrieked. “And they’ve got energy to spare.”

Arthur chuckled from his armchair. 

“I do believe this was her plan all along,” Remus said. 

“Hmm,” Arthur raised the Prophet to cover his grin. 

“Help,” Remus covered his face with a pillow. “How do I make her stop?” 

“I’ve always thought it wise to do as she says,” Arthur replied before one of the boys launched themselves at Remus’ unprotected stomach. 

“He’s injured!” Molly yelled from the kitchen. 

“Not any longer,” Fred mumbled as Remus wheezed. 

“Apologize now Fred Weasley!” Molly shouted. 

“Sorry,” Fred mumbled, and shuffled off. 

“Sorry,” Molly patted Remus on the back. “Perhaps you should take Bill’s room, now that you can climb the stairs. You can lock the door. Although,” she narrowed her eyes at Fred and George, who were whispering. “They’ve figured out at least two of the unlocking spells.” 

“I ought to-“ Remus started. 

“Oh, and Albus sent your clothes today,” Molly dragged a case over from the door. “From your flat.”

“I haven’t got a flat,” Remus stared at the case. 

“It was locked up as evidence in the Ministry,” Molly said. “But they’ve begun to clean house.”

“Oh,” Remus trailed off. The clothes he’d left in Sirius’ flat. 

_What was the nature of your involvement with Sirius Black?_

“I’ll help you get it up the stairs,” she said, passing Ginny off to Arthur, who smoothly accepted the hand-off.

“Molly,” Remus said firmly. “I ought to be moving on.”

“Just until you can get back on your feet,” Molly went to the stairs with the suitcase. “Save up a bit, figure out where you’re going next.”

“But,” Remus protested. 

“I’m not putting you out on the street,” Molly crossed her arms, suitcase still in one hand. “I’ll start looking at jobs in the paper tomorrow, but you can help around the house until then.” 

“I don’t need your charity,” Remus said. “You’ve enough mouths to feed.” 

Molly laughed. “Charity? Remus, dear,” she pressed at a knot of muscle in her neck. “I’m trying to raise seven children to hopefully be decent adults one day. Do you believe that what I do isn’t work?” 

“No, I didn’t mean-“ 

“Then you’ve been working,” Molly finished. “Quite hard, might I add. And it’s been an enormous help to me. Now,” she pushed him towards the stairs, “let’s make up your bed so I can put the little ones to sleep.” 

“Yes, Molly,” Remus said, and Arthur snorted into his tea. 

“Lift and tuck the sheets,” Molly demonstrated. “Yes, there you’ve got it.”

Remus sat down on the bed with a groan, flexing his leg to pull the ache from it. 

“I understand that when people who have been struggling get a bit more energy, it can be a difficult time,” Molly said, still standing. “I have to say this, you understand.”

“What?” Remus felt like squirming under her gaze. 

“If you do anything that might traumatize my children, I will find you in the afterlife. Do you understand?” 

“Oh,” Remus winced. “Yes. I mean, I wouldn’t do that.” Here. 

“Good,” she said brightly. “That’s all, then. I’ll put Ron and Ginny to bed.” 

“Good night, Molly,” Remus said. 

“Good night, Remus dear,” she smiled. 

For the next two weeks, Remus had nightmares nearly every time he closed his eyes. He dreamed that Sirius, with ragged robes and chipped teeth, escaped Azkaban and crawled through Harry’s window to bite him. He dreamed of Greyback coming for him a second time, only this time as a human, and holding him down with greasy hands as he bit deep into his ribs, blood shining on his teeth. He dreamed that he lost himself to the wolf, and came after James with a monster’s growl from his human throat. 

He prowled the kitchen for tea with late night bouts of insomnia, but Molly began to restrict him to herbal and make sure he was good and exhausted every day. That way, his heart pounded as he ran from a wolf that became a shaggy black dog, but he did not wake. 

_Moony. Moony, love._

_What was the nature of your involvement with Sirius Black?_

“What about,” Molly began, paper rustling as she clasped it. “But no, you’ll need more flexibility than that.” 

“It’ll be the full moon in two days,” Remus said. 

“I know, dear,” Molly did not look up from the paper. “What about a bookkeeper position? It’s not got any benefits, but if you ask they may be able to accommodate your needs.”

“Molly, this is important,” Remus insisted. 

“Albus has said you can apparate to the shack in Hogsmeade,” Molly answered. “I do have to admit, I felt quite smug when I solved that mystery.” 

“Hm,” Remus hesitated. 

“That won’t work?” Molly asked. 

“No, that’ll be the safest option,” Remus admitted. “I just prefer not to rely on Albus.” 

Molly sighed, and chucked the paper at him. “We’re human. We all rely on one another.” 

“I’m not human,” Remus said. “Not really.”

“Oh, tosh,” Molly scolded. “You stop that. Now, why don’t you go do the groceries,” she handed him a scrawled list, “and you can stop in at the bookshop and put in an application.” 

“Yes, alright,” Remus agreed. 

“And take this,” Molly handed him the last apple with a squeeze to his hand. “You’re still looking far too thin.” 

“Any luck this round?” Arthur asked that evening. 

“I’ve been hired by the bookshop,” Remus said, and waved away Arthur’s handshake. “Don’t get too excited. Jobs rarely last me more than a couple months before they figure it out.” 

“Ah, well,” Arthur clasped his shoulder. “You never know. People may surprise you.” 

“Hmm,” Remus said. “You’ve never said how you feel about my being here. I’d understand if you’d rather I moved on.” 

“Molly and I both chose to open our home if needed,” Arthur replied. “You’re not the first who has been by, though I would say I’ve never seen Molly quite so committed. Or anyone so determined to believe they’re a bother.” Arthur leaned forward. “I’ve a question for you.” 

Remus felt his stomach sink. “Hmm?”

“Percy has told me you grew up with a muggle mum. Is that true?”

“Yes,” Remus said, not able to help the defensive tone. 

“Oh, no, don’t get me wrong,” Arthur said, leaning forward. “It’s just, I have a fascination with muggle elecktric devices.”

“Oh,” Remus said, relieved. 

“How is it,” Arthur said keenly, “that they get the electrick through the wires?”

“Well,” Remus blinked. “I don’t really know.” 

“Nevermind,” Arthur looked disappointed. “It’s just, I’ve acquired what they call a Ford Anglia, and I’ve been considering,” he lowered his voice, “for research purposes, you understand, doing a bit of enchantment.” 

The words came out before Remus could stop them, spilling in a rush. “Sirius enchanted his motorbike to fly.” 

“Did he now,” Arthur’s eyebrows shot up. “Clever man, you can say that about him.” 

“Yes,” Remus agreed, and the sudden rush of rage was so strong that he had to breathe through it. 

_It’s brilliant, Remus revved the engine, and Sirius puffed up like a pidgeon._

_Yeah? Sirius cocked his hips. You like something big and hard between your legs, Moony?_

_Hmm. Something vibrating, maybe._

He returned from the shack at dawn, managing the stairs to Bill’s room before he shut himself in and locked the door. He started at the bookkeeper’s Monday, and thought vaguely that if he gathered a couple month’s pay he might manage a shared flat. He slept, and dreamed of Sirius- he always dreamed of Sirius after the moon. 

_It’s over, Moony. You’re safe._

When Remus woke, he found he was crying for the first time since October, and hated that it was not for James or Lily or Peter. _Sirius,_ was all his body could think. _Where’s Sirius?_

“In Azkaban,” he said aloud. “Where he belongs.”

The bookshop did not fire him the first month. November faded into the shorter days of December, and heavy clouds drizzled cold rain on his walks from work and his stops for Molly’s errands. He learned how to balance a budget, and to consider nutrition for a house of growing children. He also learned the lyrics to every Celestina Warbeck song ever penned. 

“They remind me so much of Gideon and Fabian,” Molly said one day as Remus helped her chop vegetables and the rain poured outside the stained glass window that had been joined with lead. The house smelled of cloves and cinnamon. 

“Fred and George?” Remus said, observing the boys as they rolled in the mud outside. 

“My brothers were such troublemakers,” Molly said. “They always had a smile for me, though. I remember when they set off firecrackers on my birthday. Enchanted to look like bursting puffla flowers, if you can believe it. My name in the sky above the castle. Everyone remembered me, then.” 

“James was like that,” Remus said. “He’d do anything for the people he cared about.” 

“I met him briefly, a handful of times,” Molly nodded. “He was a cheerful lad.” 

“Yeah,” Remus swallowed past the constriction in his throat. “Him and Lily both. They were the most alive people I’d ever met.” If anyone deserved to live, if there were anyone he couldn’t imagine death coming for so suddenly- 

“It doesn’t make much sense, does it?” Molly said. 

Remus shook his head. Not for Sirius. Not any way he looked at it, any direction his nightmares tried to make plausible. “I don’t think about it.” 

The job continued to hold, and Remus passed another full moon with manageable injuries. He was ready the day after, when he was exhausted and sick and had to dig his fingernails into his palms to stop himself from wanting Sirius. He organized the books. He did the shopping. He made dinner and played quidditch and de-gnomed the garden. 

“You’re looking a bit better,” Molly commented, eyeing her work. “Healthier.” 

“That’s one word for it,” Remus replied. 

“How long has it been since you’ve been on a date?” Molly asked, and Remus dropped the dough. 

“No trouble,” Molly said, flicking her wand to pull a ginger hair from the dough. 

“Uh,” Remus said. 

“I just thought, it seemed like you were quite isolated during the war,” Molly continued, “and it occurred to me you haven’t once mentioned a girlfriend.” 

“I, no,” Remus said.

“I think it would be good for you,” Molly concluded. “Everyone needs to be touched.” 

“Ah,” Remus spluttered.

“Seven children, Remus,” Molly said unblinkingly. 

“It’s easier not to,” Remus redirected the conversation. “And better for everyone else if I don’t.”

Molly shook her head. “The world’s not as bad a place as you think it is, dear. Not always.” 

Thus began the stream of Mary, Julia, Flora, Kate. 

“She just won’t stop,” Remus said to Arthur, having fended off Kate’s persistent kindness.

“Molly? No,” Arthur said. “Almost winter hols. I’ve decided to make another room this weekend, for when Bill comes back for his.” 

“Oh no,” Remus sat up, alarmed. “Don’t trouble yourself. I’ll do fine on the couch for another couple weeks.” 

“No, I’ve thought for a while now it might be smart to have a guest room. Just haven’t had the proper motivation to get the job done. Spare some time to help?”

“Well, of course, but-“

“I’ve another question for you. And you should know I’ve never gotten a satisfying answer,” Arthur said, peering intently at him. “What is the function of a rubber duck?”

The room was finished despite Remus’ protests, and when Bill returned he must have been owled about Remus’ presence, because he simply accepted it with a nod and continued with dinner. 

“Charlie, finish your vegetables,” Remus said, extricating a fussing Ron from his highchair. 

Charlie sighed, and sat back down to pluck at his greens, eyeing the pear cobbler. 

“Remus, can we play quidditch tomorrow?” George asked. 

“It’s far too cold,” Remus replied. 

“Not with the sweaters mum’s going to give us come morning,” Fred replied. 

“I’ve given you naught but coal,” Molly rebutted, and Fred only laughed. 

It turned out Fred was given a lump of coal, but he was also given a sweater. As was Remus. 

“Molly, I can’t accept this,” he said uncomfortably. “I couldn’t get you anything.”

“I’m not about to unravel it,” Molly said. “Just wear it, dear. Make me happy.” 

“Talk to Sue,” Arthur interjected, pulling on a thick pair of knitted socks. “Make her happier.” 

Remus felt suddenly as if he couldn’t breathe. He stood, alarmed, and noticed his hands were shaking. Nine round faces peered up at him, and he knew before it happened that George would turn to Fred in his confusion. 

“Need some air,” Remus managed, and stepped out into the cold. He desperately wanted one of Sirius’ smokes, but thought at once that Molly would skin him if he exposed the children to cigarettes. 

“What am I doing here,” he said to the brown, shriveled fields. How had it happened, that several months had passed without his realizing, in some alternate reality where James and Peter and Sirius were gone and parents handed a werewolf their children. He had gotten far too comfortable here. 

“Remus?” Arthur stepped outside and shut the door behind him. 

“I’ve been thinking it’s time to move on,” Remus answered. 

“Well, I can’t stop you. Even Molly can’t do that, if you really want to go.”

“I have to,” Remus said, the panic easing as he made the decision. “I’ve got to figure things out. Myself.” 

“Maybe,” Arthur acknowledged. “But today, it’s Christmas. Play quidditch with the boys. Tell Molly tomorrow.” 

“Yes,” Remus sighed. “You’re right.”

“Often am, funny enough,” Arthur said, and shivered. He turned the knob on the door, and a brown streak shot out. 

“Scabbers!” Bill yelled, his voice high with panic. 

Reflex had saved Remus where it had failed others, and not a single thought had passed through his head before his wand was out and the rat was still on the ground, its whiskers twitching. 

Bill ran out to the rat and picked it up, sniffing. “Thanks,” he said. “He keeps trying to get away, ever since I got home. Even bit me just now,” he showed Remus his hand. “I don’t understand. We’ve been good friends ever since I found him.” 

“Let me see,” Remus said with about a quarter of the authority of Molly Weasley, examining the bite. “Your mum’s got some salve…” he looked at the rat’s soft, crooked ear, and froze. 

“Bill,” Remus said softly, the urgency of his tone making the boy shrink back. “Where did you say you found this rat?” The round eyes, but surely all rats were similar. 

“Hogwarts,” Bill said, confused. “Mum and Dad said it was ok to keep him, as long as he wasn’t anyone else’s pet. And I felt bad for him, ‘cause he’s missing a-“

“A finger,” Remus’ heart pounded, far off and urgent. 

“A toe,” Bill looked at him oddly, then looked to his dad, whose brow had furrowed. 

Remus pulled out his wand and pointed it at Bill. 

“Remus,” Arthur said urgently, and Remus heard the door creak as the other Weasleys spilled through. 

Remus flicked his wand, and an arc of blue light shot towards Bill as Molly gasped and Arthur leapt forward. He stopped mid-movement, and watched the creature in his son’s arms twist and fall to the ground, reforming into a shape that was far larger.

“Peter,” Remus said, blinking. 

“Petrificus totalus,” Molly barked out, and Peter froze on the ground, staring up at the gathered crowd with wide eyes. 

“He’s alive,” Remus said, and looked to Molly. 

“It seems so,” she said, appearing nearly as surprised at herself. “He was my son’s rat.” 

“He’s an animagus,” Charlie said proudly. 

“Yes,” Remus said. 

“You don’t seem surprised,” Arthur noted.

“No,” Remus agreed. 

“Boys, to your rooms,” Molly ordered. “Take Ginny and Ron with you.”

“But mum,” a chorus of two replied. 

“He’s my rat!” Bill argued. 

“Do not argue with me!” Molly said dangerously. “Up, now!” She pointed her wand at Peter, and floated him indoors. 

“I think you’d better tell us what you know,” Arthur said to Remus. 

“I never meant- I thought it didn’t matter, anymore,” Remus said. 

“Start with this man,” Molly scowled, poking Peter’s still form, “pretending to be a rat.” 

“They did it for me,” Remus could barely find the words. “To protect me, during the full moon.” 

“Genius,” Arthur replied, looking genuinely excited. “Werewolves only attack humans, yes?”

Remus nodded mutely. 

“So that would be James and Sirius as well, then?” Molly asked. 

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Remus looked at her, lost. “He’s been alive, for months. Voldemort is dead. We- the war is over.” 

“We’re about to find out, dear,” Molly said grimly. “I’ve not got Veritaserum, but I know ways of finding the truth.”

Peter sat tied to the kitchen chair, trembling as he looked away from Molly towards the two men. 

“MY SON,” Molly shouted. “FOR MONTHS.”

“Remus, please,” Peter made an odd sniffling noise reminiscent of a rat. His fingers twitched like scrabbling claws. 

“I think you’d better answer her, Peter,” Remus said softly. 

“I told you,” Peter wailed. “I was frightened!”

“OF WHO?” Molly yelled. “BECAUSE I GUARANTEE THAT ANYONE WHO ENDANGERS MY CHILDREN WON’T HAVE A BODY TO BE FOUND!”

“Sirius!” Peter sniffled. 

Something crept over Remus’ consciousness, large and certain. Understanding. 

“SIRIUS BLACK IS IN AZKABAN PRISON,” Molly continued. 

“He’ll find me,” Peter’s eyes twitched side to side. “He’ll kill me.” 

“Why?” Remus said softly. “Why you, Peter? How could Sirius possibly care so much about you?”

Peter bristled. “Shows what you know,” he spat. 

“Sirius never considered you a threat,” Remus said. It wasn’t a goad; it was fact, and the glint in Peter’s eyes showed he knew it. 

“You don’t know anything,” Peter laughed. “You always thought you were so smart, Remus.” 

“James and Lily are dead. If you thought Sirius might escape Azkaban, you should be protecting Harry,” Remus said. “But that’s not your style, is it, Peter?” 

“Of course I would, poor little Harry,” Peter’s eyes grew large and wet. 

“James died to protect the people he loved,” Remus said absently. “Sirius would have. But you wouldn’t, would you, Peter? You couldn’t be trusted.” 

“James made me his secret keeper!” Peter protested. “He picked me!” His nose twitched, and Remus felt the certainty crash over him, quiet and heavy, drowning out any other thought. 

Molly gasped, and Arthur pointed his wand at Peter. 

“Sirius,” Remus said his first thought aloud, feeling sick. “Sirius, we have to-“ 

“He needs to be taken to the Ministry,” Arthur flicked his wand at Peter, who slumped over in the chair.

“Wait, dear,” Molly held up a hand. “This needs to be done right, this time. I’ll contact Albus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Chapter 2 will have Sirius.


	2. Chapter 2

Albus sat in one of the children’s chairs, a sugar cookie frosted in red and green between his long fingers, and contemplated Peter Pettigrew’s unconscious form.

“Extrajudicial use of veritaserum will still be in effect,” he said at last. “I imagine the legal restrictions will not be reinstated until they feel they have interrogated any whisper of allegiance to Lord Voldemort.”

“Veritaserum is fallible,” Remus paced, arms crossed over his chest. “He could answer truthfully, and not implicate himself. It’d be a press nightmare for Minister Bagnold to release Sirius.”

“Delicious,” Albus said, and the other three adults looked up. “You’ve outdone yourself, Molly.” 

“Oh,” Molly blinked. “I believe Remus did those.”

“Did he, now,” Albus’ eyes twinkled. “Excellent. And yes, Mr. Lupin, I believe I was the one who taught you to resist interrogation under veritaserum.”

Arthur and Molly looked at Remus, who shrugged. 

“We will have to ensure the questions asked are… specific to our concerns,” Albus continued. 

“We can’t leave Sirius there,” Remus pleaded as he looked down at Albus. 

“Do you trust me, Mr. Lupin?” Albus asked. 

Remus hesitated. “I want to.” 

“Ah,” Albus sighed. “I suppose I have proven how fallible I am today. But I ensure you, if Sirius Black was not responsible for the deaths of James and Lily Potter,” he looked over at Peter, “more than I want justice to be met, I am convicted that the restriction of liberty is a terrible thing only to be considered as a last resort.” He stared off at the grandfather clock in the hall, the spoons moving slowly away from peril, his thoughts moving counterclockwise.

“That poor boy,” Molly shook her head. “A week with the dementors is enough to make anyone go mad.” 

Remus flinched. 

“Right,” Arthur clapped his hands, stopping Remus’ pacing. “We ought to make our plans, and execute them. Sooner the better.” 

Albus wiped crumbs from his beard, and laced his fingers. “There are perks to being Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Though, perhaps… a little flattery may go a long way.”

When Albus left the Burrow with Peter in tow, the home fell uncharacteristically quiet except for Remus’ pacing and Molly’s footsteps as she climbed the stairs.

“Remus, lad,” Arthur watched him from behind the Prophet. “We’ll deal with what comes next when we get there.” 

_We._ Remus nodded. “Thank you, Arthur.” 

“One day at a time,” Arthur said. “All any of us can do.” 

*

_Minister of Magic Millicent Bagnold Seeks Justice for the Wrongly Accused, and Swift Punishment for the Guilty._

_”I hope to do right by all of our citizens,” the Minister said Friday, “and I plan to take a hard look at extrajudicial proceedings as a matter of course in times of peace. All honest, hardworking citizens should have their liberty.”_

_The Minister’s comments, of course, have come after her decision to facilitate the swift trial of convicted Death Eater Peter Pettigrew and the subsequent release of the exonerated Sirius Black from Azkaban prison. Black is scheduled for release the morning of January the tenth…_

Remus pulled the copy of the paper from his coat pocket, and crumpled it into the torn lining of his breast pocket. The chill from the frozen North Sea was a slow seep into his bones that made his knees ache. As the unmanned boat cut through thick sheets of ice, the dark tower above grew larger, icicles as long and wide as the spines of dragons wrapping its length from the winter gales. 

_You’ll be bringing him here, of course,” Molly said. “Just until-“_

_”He can get back on his feet,” Remus said wryly._

_”Sirius Black?” Charlie asked._

_”Wicked,” the twins chorused._

Remus felt as though he might never be warm again, and he huddled deeper into his wool overcoat, tucking his hands beneath it for heat. The dementors began to cluster above his fresh, warm body, and the shivering became ceaseless. 

The prow of the boat hit the rocky shore, and a guard grabbed its stiff rope and tugged until it left the water and Remus disembarked. 

“Hell of a place,” the guard groused companionably. “Yeah? If any place on earth is hell, this sure is.” 

“Where’s Sirius?” Remus asked. 

“Oh, they’ve got ‘im,” the guard waved a hand. “They usually delouse, you know. Before they let ‘em into the public.” 

“Right,” Remus swallowed. 

“You think he’s really innocent, then?” the guard eyed him. 

“Yes,” Remus said stiffly. 

“You know, if you were to ask me,” the guard leaned against the prow of the boat. “I’m not so sure. He was mighty popular with the dementors, first couple of weeks. They’re not usually so keen on someone who doesn’t have some guilt in them, you know what I mean?” 

“I didn’t ask,” Remus said. 

“What?” the guard frowned. 

“You said, if I asked you. I didn’t ask.” 

The guard huffed, but stopped speaking. 

When Sirius stepped through the iron gate, he was flanked by two dementors. Bony knuckles stood out sharply from the grey flesh of their hands, which wrapped around Sirius’ wrists in a vise. Their ragged cloaks silently trailed the ground, and Remus imagined that he saw twin sets of eyes gleam at him in interest from beneath their hoods. 

Sirius fared little better in his prison rags, which were dirty and torn. His skin was pale and his expression vacant as the dementors moved him forward, and Remus felt a jolt of fear that he’d come too late after all, and he’d been Kissed. Sirius’ hair was short and uneven, as if it had been shorn completely then grown without check for several months.

Sirius’ eyes caught his, and Remus sighed in relief at the recognition in them. It wasn’t quite a happy feeling, but it was enough to find his feet. 

“Expecto Patronum,” Remus pointed his wand at the dementors, and a fully corporeal wolf bounded towards them. It growled until the dementors fled back towards the tower, then padded alongside Sirius, looking anxiously to Remus. 

“Remus,” Sirius watched him.

Remus nodded, unsure of what he could possibly say. 

“You came for me,” Sirius said, pulling his sleeves over his hands. 

“I should have come earlier,” Remus felt his throat tightening. 

Sirius shook his head. “I listened to other’s prejudices when I should’ve listened to you.”

Remus already knew this, though it wasn’t easy to hear aloud. “I might never’ve come for you if Peter hadn’t been dropped into my lap.” 

Sirius nodded. “Who knows what I might’ve done, had our positions been reversed.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Remus said automatically. “None of that matters now.” He held out a hand. “Come home.” 

Sirius stepped forward and took Remus’ hand gingerly, as if unsure how to grasp it. He didn’t let go after he’d gotten into the boat and it took off across the sea. When they were about halfway between the prison and the shore, Sirius let out a deep sigh. 

_Moony. Moony, love._

“It’s over,” Remus said. “You’re safe now.” 

The trip from the North Sea involved two floos, a train, and a brief but terrifying trip on the knight bus as even side-along apparition was out of the question. Remus had given Sirius back his wand, and after a few attempts he managed to glamour himself to appear as if he were wearing plain muggle clothing, though it didn’t do much for the stink. 

By the time they entered the Burrow, its inhabitants were asleep. Remus treaded quietly up the wooden stairs, Sirius trailing silently behind. He hadn’t spoken more than a word or two on the long journey, and only when directly questioned. 

“Shower’s across the hall,” Remus pointed from the door of the guest room. “Towels are in the cupboard. I’ve got a razor by the sink.” 

Sirius nodded and disappeared, the door clicking shut behind him. By the time he returned wrapped in a floral towel, Remus had managed to find a nightshirt that would only slightly drown him. Though Remus was, charitably, lean, he’d always been taller and more broadly boned than Sirius. 

Sirius slipped the shirt on over his head with a nod, and watched Remus fuss mindlessly with enlarging the bedsheets to match the enlarged mattress.

“We could trade sleeping on the couch downstairs, if you prefer. Kids are likely to wake you come morning, though.”

Sirius shook his head, and continued staring. 

“Something on your mind?” Remus asked. 

“No.”

“Other things besides my face could use some attention,” Remus gave him an awkward smile. 

“They took things from me,” Sirius said suddenly. 

_Every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you_ , Remus remembered with a sickening lurch. _You will be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life._

“I couldn’t remember your face,” Sirius looked out the window into the night beyond. “James,” the name said aloud was like a punch to Remus’ gut, and he reeled with the sudden intensity of it. “I can only see his body, over and over.” His ragged fingernails dug into his palms. “James is dead. Because of me. It’s my fault.” 

“Sirius,” Remus felt helpless, his heart pounding. _James is dead, James is dead._

“I’m so sorry,” a tear slipped from Sirius’ eye to trail down his cheek. “I didn’t trust you. I killed James. I can’t- I can’t ever get it right. You shouldn’t have brought me here.”

“Sirius,” Remus said again, but his throat was too tight, and he couldn’t continue. 

Sirius looked away, hiding his expression behind his hand. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, drawing in a ragged breath. “I’d do anything- to fix what I’ve done.”

“It’s not your fault,” Remus managed, but Sirius only laughed wetly. “Please,” Remus grasped, out of his depth. “I need you. You’re all I’ve got left.” 

Sirius gave him a look. “Moony,” he laughed. “All I’ve ever done is hurt you.”

“No one calls me that, anymore,” Remus said. “No one’s ever seen me but you.”

“You ought to try looking more,” Sirius shook his head. 

“Please don’t make me,” Remus said in a rush, wiping angrily at his eyes, pushing the grief back down where he’d been keeping it. “Not that I- not that I expect you to, I just, I need my friend. And I can’t hear you tell yourself that I don’t. I do.”

Sirius walked over to the bed and sat beside him. “You can’t- that’s no way to live your life. You can’t just hide yourself away.” 

“Fuck you, I can’t,” Remus managed. 

Sirius laughed again, choked. “We’re some sorry idiots.” 

“Smartest thing you’ve said all day,” Remus replied. 

“You’re tired,” Sirius said. “Go to sleep. I’ll stay the night.” 

Remus nodded. “Should I-“ he turned, but Sirius had vanished, and in his place was a shaggy black dog. The dog trotted over and rubbed his wet nose on Remus’ leg, and Remus scratched between his ears. Padfoot licked his hand, then crawled under the bed. 

“Night, Pads,” Remus said. “Nox.” 

They ventured down late in the morning, and Molly had a full English Sunday breakfast waiting for them, the Weasley brood still at the table sipping tea. Nine curious faces watched as they approached, some attempting more than others to appear casual. 

“Morning,” Molly smiled her best social smile. “I’ve got warming charms on the eggs and sausage, help yourselves.”

“Thank you, Molly,” Remus said gratefully, and sat in one of two open chairs- it seemed another chair had been transfigured for an adult. 

Sirius sat awkwardly beside him, saying nothing to the quiet stares. 

“Hullo,” said Fred from beside him. 

“Er, hello,” Sirius looked down. 

“You’re Sirius Black?” Fred asked. Molly rolled her eyes skyward. 

Sirius nodded. “One and only.”

“Wicked,” George said. 

“Can you play quidditch?” Fred eyed him. 

“Can I?” Sirius scoffed. “Beater for Gryffindor six years running, I was. Undefeated, except for a hiccup.”

“Mum,” Fred pleaded. “Can he play with us?” 

“You’ve got to ask him, dear,” Molly answered.

Sirius blinked. “Well yeah, alright.” 

“You can be on our team,” Fred said at once. 

“Remus can be on Percy and Charlie’s team,” George added. 

Sirius chuckled. “Moony was always pants at quidditch.” 

“Never said I wasn’t,” Remus huffed. 

“Ok,” Fred said, “we’ll go when you finish eating.” He watched the fork move from Sirius’ plate to his mouth. 

“Do not rush him, Fred Weasley,” Molly scolded. 

“Received your jacket yesterday,” Arthur pointed to a case by the door. “Might come in handy.” 

“Oh?” Sirius perked up, finishing off his plate. When he opened the case, he pulled out a shining leather jacket that had been singed on the sleeves. He pulled out another article of clothing, a t-shirt- the Sex Pistols- and grinned. 

“Back in a mo,” he said, and wandered until he found the bathroom. When he came back, Remus found he was holding his breath, and it was embarrassingly obvious when he finally breathed in. 

“Yeah?” Sirius grinned. 

“You look,” Remus searched. “Younger.”

“We are young, old man,” Sirius patted him on the shoulder. “Prepare to get your arse kicked.” 

“Language,” Remus said on reflex.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Moony, you only pretend to be that person, remember?” 

Quidditch cemented the children’s adoration of Sirius, and even Fred and George listened avidly as he taught them tricks to hitting the quaffle at just the right moment. When they finally came inside Molly was already starting dinner, and she passed Ginny off to Remus as Ron began to wail. 

“He hates being left out,” Remus said, and handed him over to Sirius. 

Sirius bounced Ron gently in his arms. “How old is he?” 

“Just about a year old, now,” Molly said. 

“About the same age as Harry, then,” Sirius made a face at Ron, who giggled and shoved his fingers in Sirius’ mouth, which Sirius nibbled lightly. “Who’s looking after him?” 

“What?” Remus asked, distracted by Ginny’s hiccups. 

“Harry,” Sirius said, his brow furrowing. “Who’s looking after him?”

“His aunt,” Remus said absently. 

Sirius stopped playing at once, and Ron stared with wide eyes. “Lily’s sister? Petunia?” 

“That’s it,” Remus remembered. “Petunia, and her husband. Dursley.”

“And you left him there?” Sirius said, his voice rising. 

“Albus said that was where he’d be safest,” Remus said, taken aback. 

“Bugger him,” Sirius said viciously, and Charlie giggled. Sirius deposited Ron back in his chair, and made a beeline towards the coat rack. 

Remus handed Ginny over to Arthur, who accepted her with equanimity. “Where are you going?” Remus called. 

“I’m checking up on him,” Sirius pulled his jacket on with a sharp tug. 

“You can’t just barge in,” Remus started.

“Hell I can’t,” Sirius growled. “I’m his godfather. It’s my right.” 

“Your right to do what?” Remus said, incredulous. “Disrupt Harry’s life when he’s just settled in?” 

“You don’t know these people,” Sirius shook his head. “I’m not letting it happen. Not letting him be abused like I was.” 

“Albus said-“ 

“Bugger Albus Dumbledore,” Sirius repeated, annunciating every word. “He doesn’t care about Harry. I do.” He opened the door. “Come with me or stay here. I’m going.”

“I’ll come with you,” Remus said, knowing the possibility of averting the catastrophe of Sirius on a mission to be slim. 

“Good,” Sirius said, grabbed Remus’ hand, and apparated. 

Remus had close his eyes, preparing to be splinched, but when he opened his eyes he had only a moment of disorientation as he took in the repeating rows of suburban homes. Number Four Privet Drive was distinguishable from its neighbors by the metal number on the door, and little else. 

Sirius strode up to the door, adrenaline carrying him, and hit the knocker twice. After a few long moments, a harassed looking woman with a horse shaped face opened the door. 

“Black,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Heard on the telly they’d let you out. Thought you might come here.” 

“Petunia,” Sirius said, as if he’d swallowed a jellied eel. “I’ve come to see Harry.” 

“Well, I don’t suppose I can stop you barging into my home,” Petunia swung the door open wide. 

“Where is he?” Sirius demanded as Remus gave Petunia an apologetic smile. 

“Can’t you hear him?” Petunia crossed her arms over her chest. “He won’t shut his mouth today.” 

Remus felt the half-smile drop from his face. He could, in fact, hear a baby wailing, but it was muffled.

Sirius crossed the hall in seconds, and paused beside the stairs. He put his hand on the cupboard handle, and turned. 

In the cupboard under the stairs stood a crib that filled the space, and inside it a baby wailed loudly. 

“He’s a little brat,” Petunia muttered. “Always crying about one thing or another.” 

“He’s a baby,” Sirius said, his voice dangerously low as he extricated Harry from the crib and held him in his arms. “He doesn’t have any other way to communicate.” 

Petunia sniffed, and Remus felt a surge of guilt. He hadn’t even spared a thought that Harry might not be safe. He’d been too wrapped up in himself to even see it. 

_They wouldn’t have let a werewolf adopt Harry Potter_ , a voice inside him whispered. 

_I was the only one left,_ Remus thought. _It was my responsibility. James and Lily’s son._

“Sirius,” Remus said, he voice unnaturally calm. “What’s that on Harry’s arms?” 

Sirius peered down, and looked up sharply at Petunia, livid. “Are those bruises?” he hissed with all the viciousness he could muster without shouting. Harry went stiff in his arms, eyes wide. 

“Mountain out of a molehill,” Petunia rolled her eyes. “He’s a brat, I’ve told you. You aren’t the one who has to look after him day after day.” 

Sirius growled, and pulled his wand from his pocket. 

“Sirius,” Remus commanded, and Sirius looked over, surprised. “Put your wand away.” 

“This woman,” Sirius growled. 

“I know,” Remus said calmly. “Get Harry’s things. We’re leaving.” 

Sirius blinked at him, then put his wand away, ducking back into the cupboard. 

Petunia laughed. “Just like that, then? Not a single thank you? Well, good riddance,” she said nastily. “Boy’s a freak, just like his freak parents-“

Remus felt rage so strong that if he hadn’t spent the majority of the 21 years of his life controlling the feeling, he might have let it act through him. He took a deep breath. “Sirius?” he called. 

“I’ve got, a bottle, two more babygrows,” he paused. “A toy… from the old house.” He looked up. “I think that’s it.” 

“Right, then,” Remus opened the front door. “We’ll be going.” 

“If you leave,” Petunia said shrilly, “I won’t take him back, do you hear me? I won’t do it!”

“Over my dead body,” Remus said calmly as he held the door for Sirius, and let it swing shut in her face. 

“Do you remember me?” Sirius said to the baby in his arms.

“Ba ba ba,” Harry said solemnly. 

“That’s right,” Sirius said, giving him a brief squeeze. “I’m your godfather. I’m going to take care of you.” 

When they apparated back to the Burrow, Albus was already waiting in the kitchen. Molly and Arthur sat silently beside one another at the table. The children were nowhere to be seen. 

“Ah,” Albus said, looking concerned when he noticed the toddler in Sirius’ arms. “Remus. Sirius. Please sit down.” 

Remus sat, but Sirius chose to remain standing. 

“Albus,” he greeted coolly. 

“Sirius, you’ve let your emotions guide you to a rash mistake,” Albus said gravely. 

“Albus,” Remus started. 

“Don’t let him lecture you, Remus,” Sirius snapped. 

“From your current position,” Albus continued steadily, “you do not see the potential consequences of your actions.” 

“I don’t see?” Sirius narrowed his eyes. “I suppose you’re omniscient, then. Only, you don’t see what you don’t look for, do you?” He shifted his arm, and the mottled green brusing on Harry’s arms was apparent. Molly made an aborted movement forward. 

Albus looked for a long moment, the silence filling the room. “I suppose I do not.” He looked down at his hands. “I do deserve your anger, Sirius. On more than one front. But you should know I mean to protect Harry. By any means necessary.” 

“You knew,” Remus said, horror creeping through him. 

“I knew Petunia Dursley did not want to raise Harry Potter,” Albus acknowledged. “I did hope, with the memory of her sister,” he sighed. “I think I must be honest with all of you, but it is not to leave this room.” 

Arthur nodded, and Sirius listened. 

“Lily took the Killing Curse to save Harry,” Albus said softly. Sirius closed his eyes, and rocked Harry back and forth. “Her selfless act of love created a protective blood magic so strong that Voldemort could not touch Harry as long as he called the house of someone with her blood home.” 

“Voldemort is dead,” Remus said. 

Albus shook his head. “I do not believe he is. And I have reason to believe it inevitable that he should return. In that case,” Albus looked steadily at Sirius, “you may have just endangered Harry’s life.”

“I’m his godfather,” Sirius said. “I love him. I’ll protect him.” 

“We will,” Remus added, and Sirius nodded. 

Albus sighed. “I can’t say for certain what the consequences of this may be. But we can’t undo what has been done. Sirius,” he stood from the table, and the others followed suit. “Your mother has passed away. You are the only heir to the Black household.” 

Sirius blinked. “I was disinherited.” 

“Informally,” Albus amended. “Not legally. I’ve scheduled an appointment with your lawyers in the morning.” 

Sirius nodded. “I’ll have to get a flat. A house, maybe,” he looked at Remus. “We’ll need,” he looked around, overwhelmed. 

Molly patted his arm, and he looked at her in surprise. “We’ll do some shopping in the morning, and set you up with a realtor. You’ll be staying nearby, of course. It’s good for children to have friends. And family.” 

“Thank you,” Sirius said, stunned. 

“I’ll place wards on your home before I go,” Albus nodded to Arthur and Molly. “You have work to do,” he looked at Sirius. 

“I know,” Sirius replied. “I know what I’ve done. It’s the right thing to do.” 

Albus gave him a somber smile. “I do hope so. For Harry’s sake.” 

“I’ll do it right,” Sirius said quickly. “I won’t let him down.” 

Albus gave him another small smile. “Goodbye, Sirius.” 

*

The entryway to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black was so theatrically horrific that Remus had to fight the urge to chuckle. Flickering gas lamps poorly lit the high-ceilings of the space, and immediately to his left adorning the wall of the mahogany staircase was a row of mounted house-elf heads.

“Careful what you touch,” Sirius said grimly, looking as if he’d seen a ghost. “Mother was fond of silver.” 

“TRAITOR TO YOUR NAME AND YOUR TITLE,” Walburga screamed from her portrait, and Remus was uncomfortably reminded of Sirius’ screaming mugshot in the Prophet. “CONSORTING WITH FILTHY HALF-BREEDS-“ 

“Speak of the devil,” Sirius flicked his wand at the portrait, which went immediately silent and incandescent with rage. 

“Where are we starting?” Remus asked.

Sirius looked warily up at the second floor bedrooms marked _Sirius_ and _Regulus._ “Kitchen,” he said gruffly, and headed through the main hall. 

Remus puttered around in the drawers, picking up anything he thought might be useful with a rag and examining it. Sirius let out a shout, and Remus turned with his wand in hand to see him being swarmed by a cloud of doxies that had erupted from the open cabinets. 

“Immobilus,” Remus said lazily, and the doxies froze in midair.

“Thanks,” Sirius muttered, batting the lot into a large jar. 

Remus wandered the length of the kitchen with the rag in hand. “Sirius, would you mind looking the silverware over?” he called.

“Yes, yes,” Sirius muttered as one of the pixies began to struggle back to life. 

Remus came upon the cellar door, which had been bolted shut. “Wine or vinegar, do you think?” he called. 

“What?” Sirius muttered. 

Remus slid the bolt. “The cellar-“ he started. 

“No!” Sirius yelled, running to him and wrenching the bolt from his hands. 

“What?” Remus said, startled. 

“There’s a pogrebin in the cellar,” Sirius looked, if possible, paler than before. “I can guarantee it’ll be hungry.”

“Good lord,” Remus took a step back. 

“Just,” Sirius waved a hand, looking tired. “Let’s stay together, alright?” 

As Remus sorted the serving spoons with a rag, he watched Sirius. “When you used to say, ‘they’ll lock me in the cellar for that,’” he trailed off. 

“Yes?” Sirius’ brow furrowed. 

“Well, you had,” Remus waved a hand wide.

“A tendency toward the dramatic?” Sirius smirked.

“I don’t think,” Remus said, “any of us really thought-“

“It’s in the past,” Sirius shook his head. “You’ll have to forgive me, but some parts of the past are a bit more memorable, at the moment.” Sirius suddenly stopped his sorting of the knives to grip the countertop, and dropped his head. “Gods, Moony. What was I thinking? I don’t know the first thing about what a good home looks like for a child.”

“You did the right thing,” Remus said firmly. 

Sirius looked up, surprised. “You think so?” 

Remus wrapped an arm over his shoulders and squeezed briefly. “Everyone figures it out as they go along.” 

Sirius looked up at him, their faces nearly touching. Then the loud _crack_ of apparition made them startle apart, wands in hands and stunning spells on their lips. A house elf, old and clad in filthy rags, stood eyeing them with his chin in the air. 

“Filthy mudblood,” the creature spat, glaring at Remus. “Disgraceful,” he narrowed his eyes at Sirius. “Upsetting my poor mistress-“

“Kreacher,” Sirius barked. “I’m sorry to see you’re still alive.” 

“Sirius,” Remus chided. 

“Ungrateful brat, come to loot my mistress’ home,” Kreacher intoned. 

“Go lock yourself in the attic,” Sirius spat, and Kreacher disappeared. 

“You oughtn’t treat him like that,” Remus frowned. 

Sirius gave him a look. “You heard what he said.”

“He’s parroting what his owners have told him,” Remus said. “If you aren’t going to let him free-“ 

Sirius chuckled. “I’d love to see how he responds to that one. Can’t think of a worse punishment for him, really.” 

“Well,” Remus sighed. “For now we ought to make sure he’s taken care of.” 

“Seems to have done fine on his own!” Sirius protested. 

Remus shook his head, looking at the kitchenware strewn across the counter. “Sirius, do you want any of this?”

Sirius sighed. “Would you be angry with me if I said I’d rather damn this place to hell and never bring any piece of it into a place I call home?”

“I’m sure Molly knows where we can find some perfectly acceptable second-hand stainless steel,” Remus replied. 

Sirius nodded. “Let’s leave it for another day. We oughtn’t leave Harry with Molly much longer.” He walked towards the front door. 

“Sirius,” Remus raised an eyebrow. “Let Kreacher out of the attic.”

“Oh, all right,” Sirius huffed. “Kreacher,” he said to the empty house. “You’re free to move about.” Sirius raised an eyebrow back, as if to say, _happy?_

“We’ll work on getting you some food,” Remus called. “Whatever else you need.” 

“He’s probably trying to figure out some way to curse you,” Sirius said idly as soft muttering came from the stairs. 

“Yes, well,” Remus said coolly. “Too late for that, I’m afraid.” 

Sirius chuckled, then grabbed his hand and apparated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a little epilogue to round it out. Sorry, I had thought there was going to be sex in this one, but then I didn't feel like writing it. Perhaps it's because I have a UTI and am currently cursing all men, including myself. Bumping the rating down.

“Sirius?” Remus called, dropping his bag by the door. The empty entryway made a hollow sound. 

He looked through the kitchen, still shining with cleaning spells. The living room with a folding chair and no couches. Upstairs to the three small bedrooms with a crib and a single hard mattress transfigured from a door. Downstairs, the front door opened and shut. 

“Remus?” Sirius called out, and Remus sighed in relief and stepped out onto the landing. 

_You do not see the potential consequences of your actions._

_I believe it is inevitable that he will return._

“What did I say to you, the first time you worked up the nerve to kiss me?” Remus asked. 

Sirius laughed. “You said, ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Terrified me half to death, couldn’t look at you for a week.” 

Remus’ lips twitched. “What’ve you got for us?” He looked at Harry, who was determinedly sucking on a spoon. He was bundled tightly in an orange puffer jacket, and wore a very small pair of sunglasses. 

“Harry picked,” Sirius said, pulling a box of utensils from his bag. “Couch too, delivery tomorrow.” 

“Mattress?” Remus asked, coming down the stairs.

“Damn,” Sirius sighed. 

“That’s alright,” Remus waved a hand. “Tomorrow’s Sunday. We can pick it out together.” 

“In the morning,” Sirius gave him a peck on the lips, and Remus flushed. “I think we ought to stop by the house in Godric’s Hollow in the afternoon. Make sure we salvage anything Harry might want later.” He neatly handed Harry off, who was wiggling furiously with his arms extended towards Remus. 

Remus gave Sirius a concerned look. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?” 

“Never really will be,” Sirius said, avoiding Remus’ gaze. “Harry,” he tickled the toddler until he laughed. “Spoon? Is that a spoon?”

“We ought to leave Harry with Molly,” Remus mused. “Don’t know what he might remember.” 

Sirius nodded. “Alright, what else’ve I forgotten?” 

Remus gave him a critical once-over, and deposited Harry in his play chair. “We ought to do something about your hair.”

Sirius ran a hand over his head, self-conscious. “It’s growing out.” 

“You look a bit like a dandelion that’s lost half its puff,” Remus said. 

Sirius gave him an affronted look. “I’ll have you know that two women flirted with me in the shops today.” 

“Harry is adorable, and makes up for a host of sins,” Remus stepped forward. “At least let me even it out a bit.”

Sirius took a step back. “Maybe I ought to just do a hair potion.”

Remus snorted. “Remember when McMilligan did that? Looked like he’d been covered in fur.”

Sirius winced. “Just even it out, then. I’ll go with a uniform dandelion puff for a bit.” 

Remus ran his fingers through Sirius’ hair, anchoring them in the strands tucked behind his ears, and Sirius shivered. “I still think you’re cute,” Remus said.

“Mm,” Sirius said. “Dashing, you mean. To the two single ladies in Ottery St. Catchpole.” 

Harry giggled, and Sirius frowned at him. “Traitor.” 

*

The house in Godric’s Hollow stood broken open, half of its roof missing and sharp beams pointed to the sky. Muggles chatted as they passed by with their groceries, looking past the home as if it had never been there. 

Sirius swayed and caught the fence as he stared up at the wreckage. Remus gave him a moment, reading the placard that marked the spot. 

_The home of James and Lily Potter stands in memorial to all who lost their lives to the dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort._ Remus skimmed through the dramatic retelling of Harry’s defeat of Voldemort, unwilling to relive the night once again. 

_What was the nature of your involvement with Sirius Black?_

Remus looked over to Sirius, who still stared at the shell of the house before him. 

_The Potters were betrayed by their secret keeper, Peter Pettigrew, who has been sentenced to life in Azkaban prison…_

“Sirius?” Remus said softly. 

Sirius nodded. “I’m fine,” he said shortly. “Let’s go.” He opened the gate, which let them both through. 

When they opened the front door, Sirius froze and stared at the ground. 

_That’s where James’ body must have been,_ Remus realized with horror. “Come on,” he took Sirius’ hand, startling him out of his reverie. “Might be some pictures in the living room.”

Sirius immediately became transfixed with the pictures in their frames, collecting them in his arms and sitting on the couch to study them. Remus began to pick up toys from the floor and place them in a sack. 

“Remus,” Sirius called.

“Mm?” Remus came to sit by him on the couch. “Oh,” he smiled. “Is that the wedding?” 

“Must be,” Sirius touched where he stood in the photo, laughing as Lily twirled James. “I can’t quite remember. Just bits and pieces.” 

“Would you like to?” Remus asked, pointing to where he ducked in and out of the frame. 

Sirius cocked his head, then his eyes widened in excitement. “Yes,” he took out his wand and looked Remus in the eyes. “Legilimens.” 

_”Hey, Lils,” Sirius shouted. “Take me for a twirl next?”_

_”You take him,” she passed James off to Sirius, who drunkenly missed his hand twice before he managed to pull him into an elaborate off-tempo waltz. “I want Remus.”_

_”What a pair of idiots,” Lily watched James and Sirius fondly._

_”Should’ve seen them parading around London as a drunk deer and a dog,” Remus said wryly._

_”No!” Lily laughed._

_”Haven’t a clue what you mean, Officer,” Remus said innocently. “A deer? With my friend here? Perhaps you saw his dog?”_

_”A fine night indeed!” James shouted a bit too loudly. “Come back, my Lily-flower. You know Remus isn’t half as exciting as I am.”_

_”One word for it,” Lily said, and shrieked as James picked her up bridal style. “I love you,” he said myopically, having lost his glasses at some point during the night._

_”I love you too,” Lily sighed. “Put me down now.”_

“Oh, god,” Sirius said, and they were back in Godric’s Hollow. It had just begun to rain; they could hear it hitting Harry’s room upstairs. “I miss them so much,” Sirius rubbed absently at his chest as he looked through the rest of the wedding photos, his head bent and tears dripping from his nose. “I keep thinking, I have to tell James,” he gulped, “about the stupid patterned couch Harry loved, but he’s, I can’t ever tell him-“ 

Remus’ vision went blurry with tears, and he pulled Sirius over to him. “I know,” he said, letting Sirius sniffle into his jumper. 

“I’ve been so afraid,” Sirius said, muffled, “that they’re going to come after Harry.”

“If they do,” Remus said, “they’ll regret it.” 

“Damn right,” Sirius wiped his face on his sleeve.

*

“George Weasley,” Molly scolded, “I don’t know what you’re up to, but Fred has already eaten his greens, and you need to take your plate back right now.”

Fred smirked at George, who rolled his eyes and switched their plates back. 

“Charlie, could you make sure Harry eats his peas,” Molly sighed.

“Sirius,” Fred said excitedly, switching his and George’s plates again while his mother’s back was turned. 

“Hey,” Sirius smiled, eyes red-rimmed. “How was your practice?” 

“I broke George’s nose!” Fred proclaimed. 

“Good arm!” Sirius gave him a high-five. 

“No dessert, more like,” Molly scolded. 

“Moom,” Fred complained, looking at Sirius, who shrugged. 

“That also seems fair,” he said to Molly. 

“Oh, Sirius,” Molly finally sat at the table and started on her plate. “Nora from town was asking about you this morning.” 

“Was she?” Sirius gave Remus a significant look, sitting down with him next to Harry. 

“I think she quite fancies you,” Molly gave him a wink. “It could be nice for Harry to have a woman in his life, don’t you think?” 

“Well,” Sirius said, then jumped. He glanced over at Remus. “I think Harry has enough women in his life, with you and Ginny about. Plus,” he placed a hand on his chest, “I would only break her heart.” 

“Oh, you,” Molly pushed a basket of rolls toward him. “Remus, did you find what you were looking for?” 

“Yeah,” Remus looked around at the table- the twins battling over a plate of greens, Arthur with his paper, Harry eating his peas in Sirius’ lap. “Think we did.”


End file.
